Sermons on the Song of Songs

HOW THE SOUL, WHILE STILL REMAINING LIKE UNTO GOD, LOSES BY SIN A PORTION OF ITS LIKENESS TO HIM IN ITS SIMPLICITY, IMMORTALITY, AND LIBERTY.

WHAT think you, my brethren? Does it appear to you that we can go back and take up again the order of exposition from which we have digressed, since the affinity of the soul with the Word, to establish which was the object of the digression, must be now quite clear to you? We might do so, as it seems to me, only for one thing; that there still remains, as I feel, some little obscurity in the various parts of the expositions which have been given. I do not wish to steal anything from you. I do not willingly pass over anything that I think would be useful to you. How could I dare to do so, especially of those truths which I receive only in order that I may communicate them to you? I know a man who once, in the course of an address that he was making, held back some part of what the Holy Spirit suggested to him, not unfaithfully, but perhaps with a want of reliance on His aid for the future, with the purpose of reserving it for another occasion, that he might have something to say when treating on the same subject again; and that man seemed to hear a voice, which said to him: * As long as you shall withhold this you shall receive nothing else.'1 What if he had kept back this thought, not for the supply of his own need, but from a feeling of jealousy that his brethren should be advanced by it? Would it not have been just that the very knowledge which he seemed to have should be taken away from him? May God keep such a feeling far from him who is your servant, as He has always done as yet! May that inexhaustible fountain of saving wisdom deign to impart itself unto me as constantly and abundantly, as it is true that I have always, without grudging, shared with you what I have received, and have poured forth again upon you whatever He in His goodness has so far showered upon me. If I should fail to bestow liberally upon you, how could I hope that God would bestow liberally upon me?

2. There is, then, among the various observations that have been made, something which may, I fear, be a stumbling-block to you, unless it be made very clear. And, if I do not mistake, there are some standing here to whom what I wish to say may be the occasion of some scruple. That threefold likeness to the Word, which we have assigned to the soul, or, rather, have observed that it was impressed upon the soul, do you remember that it appeared to us to inhere in it inseparably? Now, does not that seem to conflict with some statements of Scripture, as, for example, with this out of the Psalms: Man that is in honour and understandeth not is like the beasts t/iat perish (Ps. xlix. 12, 20); and this: They changed their glory into the similitude of an ox that eateth grass (Ps. cvi. 20); and this, which is plainly stated in the Person of God: Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such an one as thyself (Ps. L 21); and many others, which seem to assert with one voice that, after the commission of sin, the likeness to God in man was altogether effaced? What, then, shall we say to these statements? That these three qualities are not in God, and that therefore we must seek for others, in which consist the resemblance that the soul has to Him? or that they are indeed in God, but are not in the soul, so that in these respects it has no resemblance to God? or that, though they are in the soul, they are not in it necessarily, and therefore are not inseparable from it? God forbid that either of these alternatives should be the fact. These qualities are in God; they are also in the soul, and are in it always. Nor have we any reason to repent of what has been stated upon these points, since it is founded on certain and indubitable truth. But when the Scripture speaks of the unlikeness of man to God which has been brought about, it does so, not because that likeness which previously existed was effaced, but because another has been laid over it. The soul has plainly not put off its original form, but has put on over it one which is foreign to it. The latter is added, but the former is

not lost; and that which is subsequent may hide the earlier and natural lineaments of the soul, but cannot obliterate them. Thus it is said by the Apostle: Their foolish heart was darkened (Rom. i. 2 1), and by a prophet: How is the gold become dim, how is the most fine gold changed/ (Lam. iv. 1). The gold laments that it has become dim, but it still remains gold; its beautiful colour has changed, but the ground of the colour is not fundamentally changed. The pure and simple nature of the soul remains unshaken in its essential character, but it is concealed from view by a thick film of human fraudfulness, and pretence, and hypocrisy.

3. How incongruous is the mixture of duplicity with the natural simplicity of the soul! What an unworthy action to raise a structure so poor on a foundation so precious! It was with this duplicity that the serpent concealed his cunning purpose when, in order to deceive the first woman, Eve, he took upon himself the character of an adviser, and pretended to be her friend. It was with this that the first dwellers in the earthly Paradise, after they had been led into disobedience by him, endeavoured to conceal their nakedness and shame by the shelter of a leafy tree, by girdles of leaves, and by words of excuse (Gen. iii. 7, 8, 12, 13). From that time and thenceforward the poison of hypocrisy has spread deeply and widely, and has infested the whole of their posterity. Whom is there of ail the children of Adam who, I will not say wishes the entire truth in every instance to appear, but even suffers it to do so? Nevertheless, the fundamental truthfulness of the soul persists [in conflict] with original duplicity in every soul, and confusion is increased by the simultaneous presence of the two; and its immortality also continues, but an immortality shadowed and rendered sombre by the encroaching clouds of the death which belongs to the body. For although it is not deprived of life, it is unable to claim the full benefit of that life for its body. But of the soul which does not hold fast its own spiritual life, what shall I say? For the soul that sinneth it shall die (Ezek. xviii. 4). Does not that twofold death into which it falls, render the immortality (of what kind soever it may be) which it still retains, gloomy and unhappy to the last degree? Add to this that the desires which it has for earthly things (which, indeed, all tend towards its destruction) render still more dense the clouds and darkness in which it is enveloped, so that a soul existing in such a state has, as it were, a countenance pallid and deathlike, nay, the very image of death. Why does not the soul, being immortal, desire things which are eternal and immortal like itself, so as to appear that which it really is, and to live that life for which it was intended? But it delights in and seeks for things which are quite contrary to these; it conforms itself to things which are mortal and perishable, by leading a life far degenerated from the nobleness of its nature, and blackens, as it were, the glory of its immortality by daily converse with, and preference for, things which are dingy and defiled. How can a longing desire for mortal things fail to assimilate the immortal to mortality and make it unlike to itself? For * He/ saith the Wise Man, 'that toucheth pitch shall be defiled therewith 9 (Ecclus. xiii. 4). In the enjoyment of things that are mortal it is itself clothed with mortality, and though it does not put off its robe of immortality, it dims the brightness of it by the stains and similitudes of death.

4. Consider, for instance, how Eve, by attaching herself to things that were mortal, though herself an immortal soul, soiled the glory of her immortality by the mould of mortal things. Since she was immortal, why did she not contemn things that were perishing and transitory, and content herself with those that were unchangeable and eternal, similar to her own nature? S/ie saw, saith the Scripture, that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise (Gen. iii. 6). That beauty, O woman, that sweetness, that desirableness, is not thine; and if it belongs to thee because thou art in part made of the dust of the earth, is not thine alone, but thou hast it in common with all the living creatures of the earth. That which is truly thine is of another nature, and comes from another source; it is eternal, and comes from eternity. Why dost thou set upon thy soul another likeness, or, rather, a deformity which is strange to it? For what it desires to possess, that it fears to lose; and that fear is a kind of colour, which stains its free will, which hides it, and renders it like unto itself. How much more worthy of its origin would it be that it should desire npthing, so that it should fear nothing; and that, thus guarding its inborn freedom from servile fear, it should remain in its pristine beauty and strength! Alas! it is not so; its perfect hue has faded. Thou dost fly, and hidest thyself; when thou nearest the voice of the Ix>rd God thou lurkest in a hiding-place. Why is this, but that Him whom thou didst once love, now thou dost fear; and that a slavish fear has taken the place of the beauty of thy freedom?

5. That necessity voluntarily incurred, and that law of contradiction imposed upon the members (of which I have spoken in another discourse), weighs upon the same liberty, and at the same time allures and enslaves by means of its own will, a creature free by nature; covers it with confusion and ignominy, so that it obeys, though unwillingly, the law of sin which is in its flesh. Because, then, it has neglected to guard the original nobleness of its nature by innocency of life, it has followed, by the just judgment of its Creator, that it is not stripped of the freedom which belongs to it, but clad with its <nvn confusion as with a mantle (Ps. cix. 29). Well is it said, as with a mantle, that is, a garment which is folded or doubled (diploide\ because while its liberty remains, that being necessarily inherent in the will, yet its manner of conduct, which is servile, imposes upon it constraint and necessity. The same thing may be remarked of the simplicity of the soul, as of its immortality; and if you observe closely you will find nothing in that also which is not covered, as it were, with a double mantle of likeness and unlikeness. Is not that like a doubled mantle, where deceit is not inborn, but is laid upon truthful- ness, is attached and, as it were, sewn to it by the sharp needle of sin; as also death to immortality, and necessity to freedom? For this duplicity of disposition does not destroy the essential truthfulness of the soul, nor does death, whether it be the voluntary death of sin, or the necessary death of the body, disprove the immortality of the soul by its nature; nor, again, does the necessity which follows a voluntary servitude destroy the freedom of the will. Thus these evils are adventitious; they do not follow from the good gifts which are natural, but are superinduced upon them; they disfigure, without destroying them; and trouble their action, though they do not nullify it. Thence it is that the soul is unlike to God, and unlike even to itself; thence it is that it is compared unto beasts that perish, and made like unto them (Ps. xlix. 12, 20); thence it is that, as we read, they have changed their glory into the similitude of an ox that eateth grass (Ps. cvi. 20); thence it is that men, like foxes, have winding earths, as it were, of duplicity and fraud; and, as they have made themselves like unto foxes, shall have the destiny of foxes; for, according to the saying of Solomon, that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts: even one thing befalleth them (Eccles. iii. 19). Why should not one who has lived like the beasts have a death like theirs? He has attached himself to earthly things, and delighted in them, like the beasts; like the beasts also he must leave them. And there is still another point. What wonder is it that we should go forth from this life similarly to the beasts, since we come into it in a similar manner? Whence is it, except from their resemblance to the lower animals, that there is in human creatures so much ardour in the indulgence of the passions, so much pain in parturition? Thus it is that the human creature, in his conception and his birth, in his life and his death, is compared unto the beasts that perish, and made like unto them.

6. What shall I say of the fact that a creature who is free does not subdue appetite and rule it as a queen, but, on the contrary, follows and obeys it as a servant? Does not such a creature rank itself among animals without reason, and make itself like unto them whom their nature has not called to liberty, but has placed in a state of servitude, to follow and obey their lusts and appetites? Is it not with justice that God is revolted at being considered and represented as like unto a man such as this? And therefore it is that He says: Thou thoughtest [wickedly] that I was altogether such an one as thyself; and declares, / will reprove thee, and set thee in order before thine eyes (Ps. 1. 21). It is not for a soul that sees and knows itself, to think that God is like unto it, especially such a soul as mine, which is unrighteous and a sinner. For it is to such that the stern accusation is addressed: 4 Thou thoughtest, O wicked one J not * O soul,' or ' O man/ that J was altogether such an one as thyself But if the wicked one be set, as it were, before his own eyes, and made to stand face to face, if I may so speak, with the ghastly and discoloured countenance of his inner man, so that he cannot avoid beholding the manifold uncleanness of his conscience, nor ignore it when beheld; but, on the contrary, recognizes, even against his will, the defilement of his sins, and the deformity of his vices; then he will by no means be able to think that God is like unto him; nay, the difference which he will see will be so great that I think he will be driven to cry, Lord, who is like unto Thee? (Ps. xxxv. 10), which, indeed, was spoken with reference to that voluntary and novel unlikeness. For the first resemblance still remains; and it is that which renders the later unlikeness still more displeasing. Oh, how great a good is the one, and how great an evil the other! And by the close contact and contrast of the two the effect of each in its kind is heightened.

7. When the soul discerns in itself two things so different and so opposed, how can it do otherwise than cry out, between hope and despair: Lord, who is like unto Thee? By so great an evil it is drawn towards despair, but by so great a good it is recalled towards hope. Thence it is that the more it is offended by the evil which it beholds in itself, the more ardently it aspires to the good which it also descries, and the more it desires to become wholly like unto Him in whose image it has been formed; that is to say, to be simple, upright, fearing God, and departing from evil. Why should it not be able to depart from that which it has been able to approach, or to draw near to that from which it has been able to withdraw? Yet for either of these movements, I must not omit to say, grace must be relied upon, not nature, nor even laborious effort. For it is wisdom that prevails over vice (Wisd. vii. 30), not nature nor labour. Nor is ground for hope wanting, for it is the Word to whom it turns for help. The noble relationship of the soul to the Word, and the enduring likeness which it has to Him, of which, during the last three days, I have been discoursing, is not barren or ineffective with the Word. He deigns to admit into the fellowship of His Spirit that which is like unto Him by nature. Like seeks like assuredly, according to the natural order. Listen to His voice as He calls to the soul: JZeturn, return, O Shulamite: return, return, that we may look upon thee (Cant. vi. 13). He would not look upon her while she was unlike unto Him, but when she shall be in His likeness will behold her, and admit her also to the vision of Himself. For we know that when He shall appear, we shall be like Him; for we shall see Him as He is (1 John iii. 2). Believe, then, that when it is inquired: Lord, who is like unto Thee? the words refer rather to a thing that is difficult than to one which is absolutely impossible.

8. Or, if you prefer to take it thus, it is a cry of admiration. Assuredly it is a likeness wonderful and admirable, which accompanies the vision of God, or, rather, it is that vision itself. For I understand this of the vision which is brought about by love, for in love is that vision and that likeness. Who does not stand amazed at the great love of God in recalling to Himself a soul by which He has been scorned? It is with justice, then, that that wicked one, who was represented in a former sermon as usurping to himself the like- ness of God, is severely censured, since in loving iniquity he is not able to love either himself or God, as it is written: He that loveth iniquity hateth his own soul (Ps. x. 6, Douay). The iniquity, then, which is in part the cause of the unlikeness between God and the soul, being taken out of the way, there shall be between them a spiritual union perfect and entire, a mutual discernment and vision, a reciprocal love. When that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away, and there shall be between God and the soul a perfect and consummated affection, a full knowledge, a vision manifest, a firm union, an indivisible society, a perfect similitude. Then the soul shall know, even as also it is known (i Cor. xiii. 10, 12); then shall it love even as it is loved, and the Bridegroom shall rejoice over the Bride, because knowledge and love are reciprocal between them. He is Jesus Christ our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever. Amen.